Unwrapped

by Jax Hart

  I snort. “His friends kicked him out? See? The man’s intolerable.”

  “What were you screaming about anyway? I heard you from down the hall when I was fixing Dare’s room. I thought Good Lord there must be an intruder.”

  “Nothing. It was a bad dream.”

  My heart beat’s faster, feeling trapped in a cage as I remember the way Santa pulled me against his hard lap yesterday. And he was hard. Every inch I could feel anyway. His touch seemed possessive. My cheeks heat as I recall exactly what I had shared with him…what my secret wish was. I sigh, well he made one wish come true already. I asked for trouble. That I wanted to meet trouble for Christmas. He made me feel vulnerable. Exposed. But sharing a wish with a stranger can’t come back to bite me. I shake my head. But to fantasize about him and the man who just walked into my room straight from my dream is very weird. When they morph into the same person it was even weirder.

  “I need coffee and a shower. Did you put weed in those cookies because I’ve been having the strangest dreams.”

  “Not in the cookies. Maybe a little CBT oil in your bedtime tea.”

  “What!?” I shriek.

  “Anyone can see you’re wound tight.”

  “I’ve never even smoked a joint.”

  “You have a spa appointment today. It’s on the house.”

  “Fine,” I snap.

  “It was just a pinch,” she straightens the tangles sheets on the floor.

  “No more. Instead of helping me sleep, all it did was give me nightmares.”

  “The kind that make your skin flush? I’m old not stupid. You were yelling Santa’s coming!”

  “Was not.”

  “I knew you were a believer,” she smirks.

  “Har-har. I need to shower.”

  “Yes. you do,” she smirks as she walks out.

  “What?” I ask the empty room.

  “EEEK!!!!” I scream, catching my reflection in the mirror. My hair is a rat’s nest of knots. Yesterday’s mascara is streaked down my sticky face. My lips are swollen from biting them so much and my nipples are the points of two blades poking holes through my sleepshirt.

  The deep laugh booming from somewhere down the hall has my eyes thinning to slits.

  He will pay. I will make his Christmas hell and be the one waving him goodbye with my middle finger as he packs his bags and rolls out. This roof isn’t big enough for the two of us. Heck, neither is this town. Or this country. Maybe the entire world. Or the universe. He packs an ego to match his size. His swagger is sexy as all hell. He smells like pine soap and new money. Crisp. Sharp. Hungry.

  My palms smack the tiled shower walls. Why? Why do I always want the bad ones? The ones who treat me like shit and walk away without a second thought?

  Not this time.

  I won’t let it happen. If only I could find a way to get the man out of my damn head. Maybe I’ve already found a way. Humming, Joy to the World, I lather up rinse and repeat.

  I have the perfect plan to find trouble that doesn’t include him.

  14

  Dare

  “SOMETHING SMELLS DELICIOUS,” I smile warmly at Sally as I enter the kitchen. I avoided the She-Devil for the day by snowshoeing for a few miles then unwinding in the hot tub only to lift weights and sink into a tub full of ice after. It’s how the Russian’s train. I feel invigorated. Reborn. Ready to battle.

  I swirl the heady merlot in my glass and note the time as the twinkling Christmas lights catch the face of my Tag Hauer watch. A fire’s blazing. Bing Crosby is crooning in the background. I swear Sally is up to something.

  “It won’t work.”

  “Hmmm?” She turns from the oven, holding a roasting pan.

  “What you’re doing?”

  “Cooking a roasted chicken?”

  “You know what.” I swallow my wine at the sound of heels tapping on the wood floor.

  She walks into the kitchen.

  My hands tighten on my wineglass, almost snapping the stem. Fuck. She. Looks. Hot.

  “Catching flies in winter?” She smiles sweetly, shaking that ass just a bit. My mouth snaps shut. My eyes narrow suspiciously as she slides into the counter stool next to me. The tips of her cranberry nails dance on the white granite. I try to look anywhere but at the skintight cashmere clinging to her curves. Patent leather pants are tucked into high-heeled boots. The kind a man dreams of having his girl leave on as everything else comes off.

  I swallow, looking away, trying to forget how she felt in my arms, how she tasted…the way she kissed. And now that I’ve seen those smooth breasts and the dusky nipples…I ache to know what those taste like too.

  “Dare, be a love and set the table.” I slide off my stool and walk to the cabinets.

  “Dare?” She cocks and eyebrow. “You look more like a…Spencer or Brett.”

  “It’s actually Darren. Only friends call me by my nickname, cupcake.”

  “Shiloh. Just Shiloh.”

  I pause, turning to face her. “Okay, just Shiloh.” My hands find the plates.

  “I’m not staying. It’ll just be the two of you.”

  “Oh?” Sally quirks a brow. “You knew I was cooking.”

  “Sorry.”

  Headlights cut through the window. I put the plates down, flick off the kitchen lights and press my hands to my mouth asking them for silence. With my back to the wall, I slowly move the curtains aside.

  “It’s just my date. Paranoid much?”

  Something ugly churns in my gut as Federico climbs down from the cab of his truck grinning at the house. “Something like that.”

  “Shiloh flicks the lights back on, grabs her Chanel purse and glides a clear coat of gloss on her lips. “Don’t wait up,” she winks walking to meet Federico at the door. And I’m nipping at her heels.

  “Down, boy.” She turns her head pausing with her hand on the doorknob.

  “Please. How many times to I have to tell you that you’re not my type?”

  “Oh yeah?” She challenges cocking a hand on her hip, “That’s not what you’re body screamed yesterday.”

  “Admit you were having a sex dream this morning and we’ll call it even.”

  “I don’t have to admit anything to you—”

  “Are you going to open that door? That poor man is freezing,” Sally reaches past the two of us and let’s poor Federico in.

  “You’re covered in ice.” Sally frets.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll warm him up,” Shiloh grabs her coat and slips it in.

  “Bye.” She grabs Federico’s hand and rushed out into the cold as he and I talk without words. Finally, he nods and follows her.

  “She’s trouble.”

  “Don’t I know it.”

  “What are ya’ going to do then.”

  “Nothing,” I shrug.

  “Well, that’s a damn shame.”

  “She and I…we’d be a tornado, leaving nothing but a path of pure destruction.”

  “Nothing wrong with a little mess.”

  “Unless it’s somebody’s heart laying in a twisted heap.

  “Since when do you give a damn about anyone’s heart?”

  “Since…I started remembering what’s it’s like…to want…to want to be loved.”

  “Oh.” She simply says turning from the door. “Come on. Food’s getting cold.”

  I didn’t lie. She’s not my type. But as I watch the taillights turn red as he brakes at the end of the drive, I wonder why it feels like he’s on my date. In my shoes. Sitting somewhere where I’m supposed to be. Which makes absolutely no damned sense since I can’t stand the woman. I just want to fuck her. Hard. I pinch the bridge if my nose. It’s gonna be a long-ass night.

  The bar is packed. I press gently on the gas nosing into the back lot. Sally tried her best, but I’ve been in a mood ever since Shiloh left me standing in the small lobby area sporting half a woody.

  In Chicago, I was practically a god. Revered. Feared. No one ever gets the better of me l
east of all a woman. No matter how sassy her mouth is.

  “Great.” My teeth grind at the sight of Federico’s truck parked under a lamplight wrapped in garland and blinking lights.

  I sit for minute before getting out. Rog needs me here tonight. I’ll babysit his bar for him, but I can’t promise I won’t smash something tonight.

  The pledge guarding the backdoor nods as I enter. Music moves through the walls. The beat vibrating straight through me. Familiar smells bring me back. Beer. Cigars. Cinnamon and cloves. French fries and Christmas Pines. It’s sensory overload. I tap a knuckle on Rog’s office door not waiting for his response before entering.

  He looks up from where he sits behind his desk, a pair of black-rimmed reading glasses are perched on his nose.

  “Take a seat. Help yourself to a drink. I’m finishing up payroll.”

  “I’ll drink when the place clears out.”

  He nods. “Thanks for doing this. The boys are clearing out in the morning. Smith and Luce are in Vancouver for Christmas. Federico is running point on the meet.”

  “Is her ready for that?”

  “He is the VP.”

  “Who’s the meet with.”

  “Chicago mob.”

  “Roque?”

  “His point men. He said he’s staying in the city to do you a favor.”

  “He had a big mouth for a DON.”

  Rog grins. “He wanted to know if you were available to play Santa at his Christmas Eve party.”

  “I’m going to kill you old man.”

  Rog throws back his head. His booing laughter shakes the walls as much as the bass.

  My face heats. I slide his phone across his desk and raise my fist with every intention of smashing it to bits.

  “Loosen up, Dare. It’s clean fun.”

  “At my expense.”

  “This is what family does, son.”

  That word again.

  I don’t speak but slide his phone back across his desk. My jaw tics. My throat’s tight. His fingers still on the keyboard. He sits back in his chair. “Darren?”

  “Something off with me. Something’s changed this year. I’ve never been big on holidays. They roll right off me. But this year’s been different. I’m angry. Frustrated all the damn time. I want to punch walls. Break shit. But I met this girl…”

  “Shiloh?” He grins.

  “Freddie.” His brows draw together. “She’s twelve. Roque’s fast pacing my foster application.”

  “Is this about Freddie or you.”

  “Both. You were there. You saw how I lived.” I look past his shoulder out the window to the flakes of snow falling haphazardly on their flight to the ground. His chair creaks as he leans back.

  “Some ghosts never leave, do they? Life comes full circle. Maybe that’s what this season is for you. I’m married with a kid on the way. Smith and Luce are probably making one of their own…”

  “Thanks, for the clarity, Oprah. But I’d already figured that part out.”

  “It’s the woman then.”

  “You knew she was staying at the inn you bastard, didn’t you?”

  He smirks. “You did too. Mac told me you had him return her coat.”

  “She’s trouble.”

  “So was Devon when she came into town.”

  “She’s not Devon.”

  “No, she ain’t. She’s your problem to solve.”

  I snort. “Nope. Tonight, she’s Federico’s.”

  He doesn’t respond to that but starts pecking away on his keyboard again. I rise and get ready to face the music. Literally. My hand pauses on the door.

  “Use your time here wisely. Leave your ghosts of Christmases past—in the past. Put everything behind you for good, Dare and move on.”

  I swipe a hand over my eyes and nod, still facing the door. Rog and I share many secrets. Burying Ma’s old boyfriend on Boxing Day was just the beginning. He knew the ask was big to bring me back to Springdale on Christmas and he did it anyway.

  I spin on my heels. “What’s going down? Why did you really need me here?”

  “Not tonight. Let tonight still be about Christmas. Tomorrow it’s back to war.”

  “That bad.”

  “He nods. Dev doesn’t know a thing about it. I need to keep it that way. But now that we’re expecting…it makes it even more vital that we end this new threat. We might need Roque in on this.”

  “I hate owing that man favors.”

  “He’s more dangerous than all of us combine. We need to tread carefully. But there’s no other way. The Cartel’s operation is too big. The heat on the border bought us some time but that won’t last.”

  “I have some connections with the Royal Bastards out of New Mexico. I’ll make some calls.”

  “This is why I need you. I never asked how you made shit disappear, but I had a clue you had help all those years ago.”

  “I was the best. I’ll handle this new threat. You have my word.”

  “Do it before you head back to Chicago. I don’t want this to follow you there. You’ve worked too hard to sit behind that desk.”

  “No one knows where I come from. What I’ve done. The members of the board would shit if they knew their CEO was a former enforcer for an MC.”

  I walk out and back into the madness of a packed bar on the holidays. Standing at the end of the hall, still hidden by shadows, I take it all in. The single women are easy to spot. Their hair’s curled. Lips coated in various colors as they eye the men wearing leather cuts. Some reek of desperation others are more discreet. The old ladies sit at a table together, laughing and drinking, secure in their place. The men are having fun too, but they never let their guard completely down. Some eye the doors others watch out the windows, knowing we can never ever all really be safe. Especially since a pledge infiltrated our ranks last year. Pretending to be one of us while being loyal to a rival MC. Rog and Dev almost got killed along with our current Prez and his woman. It was a betrayal none of us will forget anytime soon.

  The interior has changed from the rambling shack it was when I was a boy. However, the atmosphere is the same. These people coming from all different directions chose to make Springdale home and these people their family.

  The men who remember me, raise their glasses as I step forward. I smile giving a half wave and move to my spot by the door. I’m the only sober one in the room, well, besides Devon. She saunters over handing me a black coffee.

  “Thanks.”

  “Sorry about kicking you out.”

  “No, you aren’t.”

  She glances over to the dance floor where Federico has Shiloh smiling up at him. “He’s a good dancer.”

  “It’s in his blood.”

  “I need a favor.”

  My eyes cut t hers. “Everyone has been asking me for one lately.”

  “It’s Rog…he takes on too much. I thought he was out of the MC. But Club business always seems to be in our lives.”

  “Come on Dev,” I lower my voice as I lean in closer, “you’re never out. An MC is like the mafia. You’re in for life. Sure, your role might change but you can never leave.”

  She bites her lip, resting a hand on her belly. “My baby.”

  “I know. Don’t worry. They’ll be safe. You have my word.”

  “The men are going to Canada in the morning.”

  “I heard.”

  “You’re staying here?”

  “I am.”

  “Good. I feel better when you’re around.”

  “You’re the only one who’s ever said that to me.”

  “I won’t be the last.”

  My eyes are still on the couple burning up the dance floor. She turns her head. “She’s not into him. I can tell.”

  “I don’t really care.”

  “Yeah, you do.”

  “Do not.”

  “Do, too.”

  I roll my eyes. “Thanks for letting me know what’s it’s like to have an annoying sister. I missed out on so much fun,
” My delivery is dry as I tear my eyes away from the curve of Shiloh’s ass. My fists clench under the table as his hands slide low, stopping right above those juicy cheeks.

  “Uh-huh.” I ‘ll see you later. She leaves me trying to look everywhere but at Shiloh.

  “Who comes to Springdale for Christmas anyway?”

  “You did.”

  “Shit. I thought I had muttered that low enough.”

  “Give Christmas a chance, Dare.”

  “I did. Once.”

  “So? Do it again?” She winks this time fully walking away.

  I sit with my back against the wall and the main door on my left. From this position I can also see the hall where the backdoor is.

  My cell pings in my pocket.

  “Motherfucker.” A picture of me dressed up as Santa next to a smirking Rog fills my screen.

  Looking jolly, Dare. The message reads.

  How’s Freddie, ass-wipe?

  I’ve killed men for less…

  I’m shaking in my boots…

  You should be motherfucker.

  Did you forget my hands are just as bloody as yours?

  I’ll be in touch. Roque responds.

  Just as I’m about to slide my phone back into my pocket anther text from an unknown number comes in.

  You sure you aren’t some weirdo? Thanks for the doll.

  Hey Freddie. I’m in Oregon for the holidays. Roque will keep you safe. Hang on.

  Roque Salvatore? The mob boss? He’s going to keep me safe?

  Yes.

  I’m freaking out.

  Just wait until I make him your godfather.

  She types back a face palm and poop emoji.

  Anyone bothering you?

  Not anymore. I have a bodyguard waiting for me outside every morning and hired car taking me to school.

  Good. I grunt out loud as I type.

  Why are you doing all this for me? Some unwanted girl.

  You’re not unwanted Freddie. Don’t ever say that again. Roque got you this phone?

  Gulp? I guess? Some big man in a suit driving an expensive car did.

  You’re going to be safe now, Freddie. I swear it.

  She doesn’t type back. And I understand why. Adults say a lot of words. Make promises they don’t keep. I’m going to have to earn her trust.